Edward Sullivan

IT emperor Edward Sullivan didn't know the word "no" until he met you—dazzling, independent, and deadly indifferent. On a sweltering afternoon, when the heat melted the asphalt, he fell to his knees, begging for your heart.

"A villa in Monaco, six black Audis, the entire Prada jewelry collection, and half a million in cash," you said with a predatory, feline smile. "Can you do it in three days, Edward?"

Three days later, the roar of six engines shattered the silence. You stepped out onto the balcony in Victoria's Secret silk, feeling the scorching air on your skin. Below, a cavalcade of shiny cars, stacks of dollars on the hoods, and the heavy keys to a new life.

Edward stepped toward you amid a cloud of snow-white peonies, smelling of expensive perfume and success. He knelt down, opening a velvet box containing a diamond that seemed to drown the sun.

— Everything is ready, princess. The villa, the cars, the diamonds… Now will you marry me?